I yawned and stretched, reluctantly sitting up from my bed. The rubber sphere was still in my pocket—felt heavy, but I shoved it deeper anyway. No point in thinking about it too much right now.
My room was a mess, as usual. Clothes on the floor, textbooks piled half-heartedly on my desk. I wasn't exactly the type to get excited over school stuff. Summoner training or not, it all felt kind of… meh.
Slowly, I dragged myself to the bathroom and splashed cold water on my face. My reflection stared back—same sleepy eyes, same messy black hair. I barely bothered to fix it. Why bother? No one here really cared.
Throwing on my uniform—Emerece Summoner Academy jacket and all—I didn't bother checking the emblem. It was just a thing I had to wear.
Breakfast was quick, just some bread and tea. I wasn't hungry, but I forced myself to eat a little. Gotta keep some energy, right?
Outside, the city was alive—people rushing, talking, summoners heading to school. I walked slowly, hands in pockets, eyes half-closed. I didn't care about the noise or the chatter.
Sure, everyone else seemed hyped about summon parts and dungeon rankings, but I wasn't the type to get worked up. I'd figure things out at my own pace.
The cracked wall at home reminded me that power was real. But rushing into stuff? Not my style.
I was calm. Lazy maybe. But ready enough.
After all, this was only the beginning.
[Later that morning]
The school gates of Emerece Summoner Academy stood tall like some kind of fortress. Fancy metalwork. Sparkling emblem. People were already gathered around, most of them excited or anxious. Some wore flashy gear, clearly rich kids showing off their early summon parts.
I slouched my way in, ignoring the noisy crowd. One guy was waving a blade-shaped part like he just won the lottery. Another had some beast claw thing strapped to his bag. Cool, I guess—but showing off on the first day felt like too much work.
The entrance hall was packed. A big digital screen flashed info: class assignments, dormitory placements, school rules. I stared at it for a second, found my name—Yuuya Kamiya, Class 1-F—and kept walking.
"Hey, you lost or something?" a voice asked next to me.
I turned my head slowly. A girl, maybe my age, looked at me with half-curiosity, half-annoyance. Her uniform was perfectly ironed, and her summon part—a sharp, glowing wristband—was already equipped.
"Nah. Just walking slowly," I said with a shrug.
"...You sure you're a summoner?" she muttered.
I didn't bother answering. It wasn't worth the energy.
Class 1-F was on the third floor. The stairs? Ugh. I took my time. By the time I walked in, most seats were filled. Everyone was chatting loudly—bragging about their compatibility, showing off summon parts.
I sat near the window. Always the best spot. Quiet. Good sunlight. Easy to tune everything out.
The rubber sphere in my pocket shifted slightly. No one noticed it, and that was good. I didn't plan to tell anyone about my system. Not yet.
"Alright, settle down!" A loud voice cut through the room. Our homeroom teacher walked in—a tall guy in a long coat, carrying what looked like a dragon-bone cane.
"My name is Cain Varlent. I'll be your homeroom instructor and your dungeon advisor."
He glanced around, eyes sharp. "This world doesn't wait for weaklings. If you're lazy, you'll fall behind. If you hesitate, you'll die."
I yawned quietly.
Well, guess I'll try not to die then.